


never let me down again

by islandvibe



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Blue Lions Minor Spoilers, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Sex Fantasy, War time, beach date, uhhh down time during war.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2019-10-02 07:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandvibe/pseuds/islandvibe
Summary: A collection of Fire Emblem one-shots.





	1. owainigo beach date

Inigo’s skin roils along with the groggy waves of heat rolling over the Ylissean summer. While he was proud to say that he was far used to the heat, having grown up in a Risen apocalypse that had sweltered with rot in the air, along with the hot summers of his childhood days.

But there really was only so much a man could do like this! The heat was causing him to _sweat_ and that was causing his armor to stick to his clammy skin. He couldn’t even enjoy the thrill of chasing the skirts of the women that littered the beach.

(“It’s not like you get anywhere with the damsels anyways!” Owain had piped up when Inigo had voiced his concerns, probably half trying to be uplifting and half being an asshole. Inigo didn’t appreciate it.)

The beach had been Owain’s idea, of course. He was much like a lovesick puppy in that regard, always longing for the crashing, salty waves and the hot sand beneath his feet. He would do anything for a trip outside of Ylisstol and to the beach, and Inigo, of course, was tasked with accompanying the young prince.

Speak of the devil, he jolts when a hand cool with ocean water landed on his shoulder, just a touch above where it would have hit him square in the shoulder blade. But he soon relaxed— There was no reason to be afraid, anyways. Not when he carried a weapon with him at all times, a remnant of his chaotic upbringing, and especially not when the hand on his back was almost as familiar as his own.

“Inigo of the Indigo Skies! Your skin glistens with the nectar of the sun’s harsh treatment—“ Owain crows from behind him, pointedly ignoring Inigo’s roll of his eyes and muttering about how odd Owain phrased things, “—and the only cure is to join me amongst the waves. They call, my friend. They beckon and whisper for you! Can you not hear them?”

He hasn’t moved his hand away from where it rested upon his shoulder, but Inigo doesn’t mind. He finds himself not minding quite a few things he might have minded in the past. “Owain, I am of the utmost certainty that there is no whispers in the sea,” Inigo responds drily, dry as the sand beneath him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were going mad.”

Owain moves to stand before Inigo, and if Inigo allows himself a few moments to drag his gaze in appreciation over his best friend’s body, that’s entirely his own secret. “Not even a murmur? A mumble? Not even a note?” He’s tapping his chin, and he sighs exasperatedly when Inigo shakes his head.

Inigo stands, even if the movement in the glaring heat makes him feel disgusting. “Sadly, whatever siren song you’re hearing is lost on my ears, my friend. Alas… You will go on cooing about it, and I won’t even have a clue.” He plays along, just this once, before flashing his signature grin. “No complaints, though. You know I love the sound of your voice.”

The flirting in public is worth it to see Owain gawk and his cheeks flush with a rosy hue. He barely ever lays on the charm with the prince of Ylisse, as he was a prince and he was… What? The son of a Feroxi dancer and the traitor duke of Roseanne? And yet it was such a treat to do so, and it almost guaranteed him a few kisses from the overeager but not inexperienced anymore Owain.

He lived for those kisses, even if it costed him dry clothing— He had been too wrapped up in his thoughts that he had allowed Owain to tug him into the ocean and only knew what was going on the second he hit the salt water.


	2. sylvleth down time

Byleth watches as the tip of Sylvain’s pointer finger traces the rim of his glass.

There isn’t many instances that their little army-- If you could even call it that, what with the size being hilariously small-- had any down time. When they weren’t risking their lives on Dimitri’s orders to murder Edelgard, they were  _ traveling _ to go risk their lives on Dimitri’s orders to murder Edelgard. The roads were harsh and long and the banished prince isn’t very keen on stopping for much of anything. Often times, morale is low.

But sometimes, not very often, Dimitri agrees to camp for more than a few hours. Even princes hellbent on revenge need to sleep, and when they stop, Dimitri can sleep for a day straight. Rodrigue watches over him, and their war party can let their hair down just a bit. This is the first time Byleth has properly washed himself in what feels like forever.

Drinking is not something he has much of a taste for, his father swearing off liquor himself when Byleth was but a toddler, but the company of a drinking partner is nice. Sylvain had invited him with an easy smile and a wave of his hand, and well, Byleth isn’t one to turn him of all people down.

The red-haired man is warm where their shoulders brush, sitting beside the campfire that keeps the area washed in a soft glow at this time of night. They’re the only ones still awake, and really, Byleth should probably not be condoning drinking when they’re on night watch, but Byleth has only had a sip of his drink and Sylvain seems to only be nursing it as well.

Byleth doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring at the swirling of Sylvain’s finger until the other soldier speaks up. “You know, Teach,” He starts, and Byleth bites his tongue when he gets the urge to say for probably the fiftieth time  _ I’m no longer your teacher, Sylvain, you can refer to me by my name,  _ “It’s pretty much a blessing that you showed up again when you did.”

The five year gap isn’t something anybody really talks about often, Byleth’s supposed period of death, but it doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t know why everybody dances around it-- Maybe they suppose he has some sort of trauma over the incident, or maybe they don’t want him to feel bad for not being there to prevent things from going the way they did.

Byleth cocks his head in acknowledgement and a silent signal for Sylvain to go on, and Sylvain laughs, looking down almost shyly.

“I mean… I don’t think without you, Dimitri would have even left Garreg Mach. You know? He’s been hiding out there for a long while, probably,” He says, and laughs again before closing his brown eyes thoughtfully. “I mean, he’s a damn mess, but it’s good to see him back. But it’s even better to see you back.”

Byleth swallows thickly as Sylvain looks back up at him. “Well,” The former professor says, quietly and calmly, as he always does. He hopes that the nervous tingling deep in his bones doesn’t show in the slight quiver of his voice. “I promised we would reunite, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Sylvain agrees, nodding his head, a smile growing on his face. “Yeah, you did. And I will always thank Seiros that you came back to me.”

The words “came back to me” echoes in his head, and Byleth is pretty damn sure that the warmth that spreads through his body isn’t because of the booze.


	3. claumitri fantasy (nsfw)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this takes place at the end of the blue lions route, so they’re of age, don’t worry. enjoy my badly written semi porn, i knocked it out in about an hour and it is almost midnight.

Dimitri’s heart beats to the rhythmic  _ tick, tock _ of the large clock that sat in the library. His quill scratches against the paper— His task. Yes, that’s right. He was supposed to be writing a letter to Almyra about their current state of diplomatic affairs. A letter to Claude von Riegan.

_ Claude’s hands settle, hot and warm, on Dimitri’s hips. They’re supposed to be discussing something or other— A trade route or something along those lines. It’s difficult for even the King of Faerghus to pay attention like this, though, with a sweet-smelling man pulling him into his lap. _

_ It’s a little embarrassing, really, the ease in which Claude does so. Dimitri is a large man, padded out with thick muscle just barely held together by tight skin littered with scars. And yet the other man loves to have him in his lap, hands on his hips and Dimitri snug tight to his body. _

_ “Claude,” Dimitri huffs, acting displeased by the advances, while his arms go to circle his neck. The Almyran buries his nose into the crook between the boar king’s jaw and shoulder, a hum of contentment vibrating against his skin. “Whatever happened to discussing trades between our kingdoms?” _

_ Claude’s arms go from resting on his hips to gliding around to loop around his waist, pulling him closer. “Trade, shmade,” The fellow King retorts, pausing to press an open-mouthed kiss on the base of his neck. “I haven’t seen you in so long, darlin’. Didn’t you miss me?” _

_ Of course Dimitri had missed him. There’s not a day that passes that his friend, his  _ lover  _ is not plaguing his mind. He craves the soft words, the gentle brushing of their hands. Dimitri’s body moves instinctively to help Claude slide his heavy fur cape off of his body. _

_ He craves this as well. _

_ “Let me take care of you.” Dimitri murmurs, smoothing his hands over Claude’s chest as he manages to back up far enough to do so. Even though he is the king of his country, Dimitri didn’t do most of the work that often. Claude liked taking control, liked picking him apart ever so slowly. _

_ But the blonde man is feeling like doing something tonight. Claude worked so hard. He had missed him. Dimitri’s hand dips down to smooth over the bulge of his lover’s half-hard cock through his pants, and he’s rewarded with a sigh of pleasure. Good. He hadn’t wanted to fight Claude over who was doing what. _

_ His fingers dance over his belt, unlooping the leather and tugging it off with ease. He can’t help licking his lips as he pulls down the cloth, watching the Almyran’s cock bounce free, hunger filling his veins— _

Dimitri jolts as the bell of the clock chimes, then sighs. It had been too long since he had seen Claude in person— apparently long enough to be daydreaming about their… Escapades in public.

He hardly registers the fact that the delicate quill had long since snapped in his palm.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @harvestscramble ! please. i’m lonely.


End file.
